


Poor Little Rich Boy

by sharedwithyou



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angstangstangst, Depressing, Depression, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Protective Clint Barton, Tony Angst, Tony Stark Has Issues, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 18:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11408505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: WARNING: POSSIBLE TRIGGERS. Implied abuse. Etc.“Come on (y/n). Stop crying. It makes you look like a whiny bitch.”“I’m sure it’s none of my business, sir, but she is only ten. Perhaps you should refrain from cursing around her.”“Shut up Jarvis. I wasn’t the one who chose to adopt her.”“To be fair, neither did your parents. They’re only her legal guardians, after all.”Tony sighed and gave you back Fluffers. Which meant throwing your stuffed rabbit at your face.“…thanks,” you whispered shakily before rushing back to your favorite place- under the kitchen table.“Man, I can’t wait til I’m 18 when I can get the fuck out of here.”Poor Little Rich Boy





	Poor Little Rich Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I wish I'd been able to write and post something sooner but I've gotten a new job so I've been tired and busy.
> 
> Alas, my less than stellar mood may have contributed to the immense angst in this fic.
> 
> This is not as angsty as the last fic I wrote. It is not as dark either. But it's still really, really sad.
> 
> Warning: POSSIBLE TRIGGERS, ABUSE, DEPRESSION, ETC.
> 
> It's a nice read, though. And I will probably write a happier sequel if this one is well received.
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Angstmaster
> 
> p.s. Tony is an ass in this one. I read up on his history (and Clint's too) so it's pretty canon. If anything isn't, well it IS fanfiction after all. I worked really hard to make it all work. And I made lovely's age nice and ambiguous in this one. We can't all be under thirty forever!!

 

 

“Are you stupid?!”

“What?”

“You let her drink Absolut?!”

“Uh, she’s a big girl. And she’s like at least a decade over the legal age.”

“Shush. We’re not supposed to know her age.” Nat the Cat bent over to pick up the pieces of glass from the shattered bottle, surprisingly calm considering the shitshow that had just passed.

“Please tell me she stole the key to your liquor cabinet.” Clint was less than serene.

“Er…”

“You left it out?!”

“Well I uh, definitely didn’t just hand the bottle to her. No sirree.”

Nat the Cat let out a sigh, but Clint reached forward and squeezed Tony’s arm where he had gotten cut by the flying glass. Hard.

 

“Motherfucker!”

 

“You let her get hurt all the time. It’s about damn time she got you back.”

 

 

“Come on (y/n). Stop crying. It makes you look like a whiny bitch.”

“I’m sure it’s none of my business, sir, but she is only ten. Perhaps you should refrain from cursing around her.”

“Shut up Jarvis. I wasn’t the one who chose to adopt her.”

“To be fair, neither did your parents. They’re only her legal guardians, after all.”

Tony sighed and gave you back Fluffers. Which meant throwing your stuffed rabbit at your face.

“…thanks,” you whispered shakily before rushing back to your favorite place- under the kitchen table.

“Man, I can’t wait til I’m 18 when I can get the fuck out of here.”

“Language, Sir.”

“When my parents die, you’re going to be the first to go Jarvis.”

“If you say so.”

 

“That is, after (y/n).”

 

 

“How you feeling?”

“Mrf.” You grumbled from underneath a sofa cushion. How you’d ended up in the hallway when you were sure you’d fallen asleep on the couch was beyond you.

“I was in the middle of carrying you back to your room but you kicked me in the crotch.”

“Sorry, Hawk.”

“Nah, I get it. Learned behavior.”

He looked ashamed at the quip he made, but you merely laughed it off. “It’s cool. Tasha does it when I try to put a blanket on her when she falls asleep watching Criminal Minds. Which means I’m basically an assassin.”

“More like Tony’s an asshole,” Clint muttered under his breath. You chose not to hear him.

“Did I go on a rampage?”

“Nothing a few cleaner bots can’t fix.”

“Is Tony okay?”

“Why don’t you worry about yourself instead?” Clint suggested, so you nodded and put your face against the cool tile floor, hoping it would dull the throbbing of your head.

“The pillow usually goes under the face, not over.”

“I’m tired.”

“Too tired to walk 5 yards to your room?”

He gazed at you for 10 seconds, waiting for you to stop ignoring him.

When he finally realized you’d fallen asleep mid-conversation, he reached down to pick you up again.

 

“Shit!”

 

You strained to crack an eye open, but he waved off the punch to his jaw and bid you goodnight, so you let the bonds of sleep pull you into the peace you couldn’t seem to find when you were awake, even in the stillness of night.

 

 

“I figured you’d remember not to buy Absolut after she destroyed your collection of Petit Sirah last time.”

“Hey, I have a lot of stuff I need to remember okay? Like Fury’s eighty thousand deadlines or the mission details for the next five years.”

“Like you ever follow protocol anymore.” Clint would’ve bitten Tony’s head off at his bitter excuse, but Nat the Cat was the more understanding one.

Either that, or she was a teensy bit less biased.

“I’m just saying, I have a lot on my plate besides (y/n)’s dietary restrictions.”

He waited for a judgmental look from the Widow, but she stayed neutral.

“Look, she’s a big girl now. Literally. She’s gained almost 100 pounds since I was first put ‘in charge’ of her.”

Nevermind the fact that you had only been 10 when you first met the jerk, Nat had a better retort.

 

“You know anti-depressants cause weight gain.”

 

It was a mere fact, but it guilted Tony into a minute of silence.

“I thought putting her into foster care was the best option after the accident.” He’d said it over and over through the years, but he never quite believed himself. Neither did everyone else.

“Best option for her or for you?”

“For both of us!”

She said nothing, which somehow spurred him on.

“You see how crappy of a job I have handling her now, and we’re both getting close to half a century old!”

“A bit of a stretch.”

“I didn’t know what to do with a kid at 21! Hell, I didn’t even know what to do with myself at 21. And I had a fucking company to run.”

 

“So is your shitty job taking care of her you trying to prove a point, or are you just a piece of shit in general?”

 

Apparently Clint had come to the bar for some ice for his jaw. Nat the Cat strong-armed Tony out the door before a brawl ensued.

It didn’t stop Tony from yelling over his shoulder.

 

“You never could’ve done what I did at that age, Barton! When I was making scientific discoveries, you were still picking pockets!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I did better than any of you could’ve with (y/n)!! It’s not my fault she’s fucked up the way she is!!”

 

“Oh, I know how hard your life was, Stark.

You poor little rich boy.”

 

 

“Hey Tony.”

“…wow, (y/n).”

“I know, short hair sucks on me.”

“No, I just… you look different is all.”

“It’s only been three years.”

He avoided your eyes. “Yeah well, kinda busy running dad’s empire single-handedly.”

“Thanks for the Mercedes, anyway.”

He chuckled, remembering the impulse buy he’d made for your 17th birthday, almost 2 years after he’d dropped you off with social services. He knew he’d rather get a new car than a visit from a “relative” if it had been him turning 17.

“Where is it, by the way? We can trade it in for this year’s model. It’s already a year old.”

“Oh, Richard sold it for grocery money right after it arrived.”

His eyes widened. He’d specifically asked them to put you in an upper-middle class family.

“Yeah he got into gambling for a few years. Luckily he’s back to just drinking now.”

“Uh…good.”

“Marsha says thank you for the checks every 6 months, by the way. We were able to send the twins to college thanks to you.”

He sucked in a big breath. “They told me they were putting it in a trust fund for you.”

 

“It’s okay. Family is family.”

 

The sad smile you gave him almost broke his heart.

But he had two meetings in your city and he needed to squeeze in a conference call before lunch.

“Well you turned 18 last week right?”

“Four months ago, yeah.”

“Uh, close enough.” The two of you shared a laugh as two of your dorm buddies ran past, giggling at how hot your “sort-of brother” was. And they were right; those eyes could melt an iceberg.

But you knew that it was his heart that was made of ice.

“So, what do you want for your present? Anything you like! Up to 10 dollars. Just kidding, a thousand. Hell, let’s make an even 100 grand. You only turn 18 once right!”

You figured he meant well, but money didn’t buy happiness. And if you’d survived those years of hell with Richard and Marsha, you certainly didn’t need him now.

“I’m fine, really.”

“How about a Rolls Royce this time?”

“No thanks. My roomies threw me a party and Kathy took me to get my hair cut at an actual salon!”

“…Right.”

“It’s too short, huh?”

 

He wanted to let you right then that he was sorry. He wouldn’t realize his own fault in it all until years later, but for now he still felt sorrow. He wanted you to know that dad had been a drunk too, that he’d avoided you all those years because he didn’t have anything to offer besides money.

 

That he knew as much as it hurt seeing you and being reminded of his parents, that it hurt you too.

 

“It looks good, (y/n).”

 

And so he handed you a signed blank check that you’d end up shredding that night, and walked out of your life for another three years.

It was too hard for him to face you.

 

Poor little rich boy.

 

 

“(y/n), wake up.”

“Get off!”

He jumped back, so your fingernails only scratched his nose slightly.

“Sorry.”

You rubbed your eyes and saw those beautiful brown orbs staring at you through your crusty lids. “…Tony?”

“The landlady let me in. Why are you sleeping at 3 PM?!”

“Graveyard shift meets opening shift.”

“Yeesh.”

“What are you doing here?!”

“I wanted to celebrate!”

“My birthday was 3 weeks ago.”

“No- oh, yeah, Happy Birthday! But I meant something bigger! You won the case against your ex!”

The last thing you wanted to do was drink to anything involving that bastard. But Tony had hired the state’s best attorney for you, after all. So you sat up and gave him a tired smile.

“Tell me the good news.”

“Twenty five years without the possibility of parole.”

You sighed with relief.

“You should’ve come to me sooner, (y/n).” Tony’s voice had gotten urgent and soft, the way it had when he’d found you getting dragged out of Stark Tower by security for making a scene, covered in bruises.

He had no right to say that to you, to say anything beyond please forgive me for abandoning you all those years ago.

But you couldn’t hate him. He’d had too much on his plate.

And you were the one who’d been too afraid to leave your ex for all those years.

 

You couldn’t blame the poor little rich boy.

 

“We’re going out to dinner, (y/n)! And after that you’re going to quit your job.”

“And why would I do that?!”

“You’re moving in with me!”

“Why-“

“Come on, what’s the point of being almost-related to a billionaire playboy philanthropist if you can’t spend the rest of your life living off his fabulous fortune?!”

You saw through his false-smile and figured he’d spoken to your psychiatrist.

 

You wished after it all that you still didn’t need his money, let alone his attention.

 

But you’d gone to college to escape Richard, and you’d gotten married to escape the loans.

 

What would be the worst that could happen if another man let you down?

 

“…thanks, Tony.”

“No problem.”

“I mean it-“

“Yes, and I mean it too. It’s no problem.”

 

You sat in uncomfortable silence until he jumped off the sofa and ran to the table.

 

“First, a toast.”

“I don’t think drinking is the best thing to do on an open stomach. Or in my life in general.”

“Hey, if you’re moving in, you’re going to have to get used to it.”

“Trust me, I’m used to seeing people drink.”

He forced out a laugh. “No, I mean you need to get used to drinking with me. I need a new drinking buddy.”

Well you supposed you’d humor him.

“Okay. One drink.”

 

“We’ll have the bougey stuff with dinner tonight. For now, we’ll just have this. I picked it up at a convenience store.”

 

You stared at the bottle in his hand, wondering if the universe was playing one final joke on you.

 

“What? Something wrong with Absolut?”

 

Somehow in all the divorce proceedings and all the paper work he’d managed to avoid reading the actual facts of the case.

 

Absolut was your ex’s favorite drink.

Though it was just an unfortunate coincidence that it was also Richard’s.

 

“Anything but that, Tony.”

He shook his head and poured a glass.

“Don’t be a baby, (y/n). Vodka for breakfast is just fine.”

“Tony! I mean it!”

He chuckled and advanced towards you, and you remembered the time he made you eat a tube of toothpaste in 6th grade after you showed Amanda his playboys.

“Don’t make me pour it down your throat, (y/n).”

 

You know now that when he grabbed you by your arm and pulled you towards him, he was just trying to give you a hug.

 

And a year or two later, you always let him pull your arm, whether it was into the pool or into his arms.

 

But at that moment, it had been too long since he’d beaten up the boys who pulled your pigtails and pushed you gently on the swings so you could pretend to fly,

 

And you’d had an inkling of hope that he loved you.

 

So you swung around and grabbed the bottle and smashed him in the head.

**Author's Note:**

> DOES THIS NEED A HAPPIER SEQUEL? LEAVE ME A COMMENT ENCOURAGING ME TO DO SO IF YOU WOULD LIKE
> 
> RANDOM RAMBLINGS:
> 
> POLL 1: WHOOOOO??  
> I made both the clint and tony romantic elements really light, so I could highlight the angst more. sorry.  
> i know clint is the shining knight in this, but tony really does love (y/n) and he could use another chapter to redeem himself. like work really really hard to redeem himself.  
> of course i could have him work hard to redeem himself and then have lovely choose clint in the end. no, i can't do that, this fic is already too depressing. maybe it should stay as a one-shot.
> 
> Poll 2: HARDEST PART TO READ?
> 
> FYI i left out any mention of sexual abuse, because i feel that is a bigger trigger for me than physical abuse. and if i ever end up hinting at sexual abuse, I will never describe it.
> 
> the hardest part for me to write was when tony made lovely eat a tube of toothpaste. just because he's young and doesn't know any better makes it somehow sadder for me because that's something that's terribly mean and could be emotionally damaging. and even if he's just being a 'regular bigger brother' i mention it after i mention all the abuse that later follows her in life, so it seems like he started the pattern
> 
> UGH.
> 
> okay i will write something happier, i PROMISE, after i get more accustomed to my new job and feel less on edge every single minute.
> 
> love all of my lovelies, thank you for reading and being here for me!!
> 
> XOXO Bucky


End file.
